sensitive topics a glimpse of paradise // graveyard [flowerfam]

[Periwinklebreeze.]

LIKE A PICTURE IN A FRAME
WISH WE COULD'VE STAYED THE SAME ​

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periwinklebreeze ❀ 26 moons ❀ demi-boy ❀ windclan lead warrior ​

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There is little thought put into his actions when he gathers his children - and yes, despite everything, he considers all five of them to be his these days. He gives little in explanation, only sternly saying that he wants to take them somewhere - being lead warrior and a parent coming in handy at times like this, with few looks even tossed their way despite the bundle of apprentices following him. Paws don't carry them too far from camp, familiar markers and well-worn earth coming into view. " This is the g-graveyard, " he says quietly - uncertain if any of them have visited on their own before. Eyes search for a familiar stone, but it takes hardly a second - surely, he could probably find these graves even in his sleep, so often has he lingered beside them in mourning. " Many of our p-past clanmates are b-burried here, "

" This.... is Nighting-galecry's, " he says softly - paw outstretched to touch the rough stone he'd brought back just for her. He starts with a name at least some will be familiar with, and eyes land upon the two newest additions with a solemness he usually lacks. " My s-siter... I n-named you after her, " he admits. Voice goes quiet for a moment, before tal touches the stone nearby - " And th-this is Wisteriapaws... m-my brother's grave, " so few of these actually hold bodies within them - more markers placed upon empty earth - but these two do.

He thinks of silver fur once woven into his nest, of delicate purple petals, and he greives - no matter how much time passes, he does not think it ill ever cease to hurt.

━ actions & " speech, " & 'thoughts/quotes' ━

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I ' V E - A L W A Y S - B E E N - R E A L - B A D - W I T H - C H A N G E

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// @mourningpaw @weepingkit @Vulturepaw @BILBERRYPAW @Dustpaw!

 

[BILBERRYPAW]

A rare silence falls over Bilberrypaw. When Periwinklebreeze had asked him to follow, when him and his siblings had paraded out of camp, he hadn't paused to consider the destination. Now, he watches in silence as his father touches a stone with—care? reverence?—and feels an unfamiliar longing come over him. Nightingalecry is here, beneath that stone and beneath the very same soil that Bilberrypaw trains under. Nightingalecry is gone, he knows. He won't ever see her again—not until he's given his own finale exhale.

The mention of another—a Wisteriapaw—perks Bilberrypaw's ears. A grief he isn't part of, one he hadn't known existed until now.

"He was an apprentice?" He's stepped closer as he had spoken and now, with only a small glance to confirm that Periwinklebreeze isn't looking at him with reproach, Bilberrypaw mirrors as Periwinklebreeze had done. It is Wisteriapaw's marker that he places a paw against rather than Nightingalecry's. The stone is warmer to the touch than Bilberrypaw had expected it to be, the pitted surface rough against his delicate pads.

He tries to imagine what it would mean to lose Vulturepaw or Dustpaw; he had erroneously believed that death is something meant only for adults.

Strangely, Bilberrypaw is aware of how near to death he had come—the yellowcough had been bad, hadn't it?

"Did something happen to him?" ​

windclan apprentice | black and white harlequin | eight moons | tags​

 

[mourningpaw]

The graves should've held no importance to the silvery she-cat. These cats were supposed to mean nothing to her... were supposed to continue to mean nothing to her. But she follows Periwinklebreeze obediently to the graveyard and looks upon the many stones and wilting wildflowers with a pang of... what, grief? Sorrow? So many family members here, so many lost friends... The scarred tom recounts the she-cat she and her sister were named for, and another shortly after her. It's the latter that catches Bilberrypaw's attention.

"Clearly," she huffs, eyebrows knit together with a spot of confusion. He wouldn't be in a grave if something didn't happen - that's just simple reasoning. But as she looks upon the tom, she can't help but somewhat regret her sharp tone. She sucks in a breath and looks away, no apology to be heard, but no more snipes to be had, either. Mismatched eyes float across the five of them before her, and then the many graves before them, and in silence she decides she's grateful to not have to mourn anyone of them that day.​

 

[Vulturepaw]

˖⁺‧₊ ☽◯☾ ₊‧⁺˖ 　The graveyard is a place that Vulturepaw would much rather steer clear of, but he trudges dutifully behind Periwinklebreeze nonetheless. It makes him nervous, being surrounded by death on all sides. The weight of it settles like a stone in his stomach, his steps heavy with second-hand grief.

He feels a little guilty, when he comes to Nightingalecry's grave. Would she be mad at him, for not visiting? Is she here in the earth, or far away in the stars? He presses his head against the warm stone silently, hopes it is apology enough.

But - there is another. Periwinklebreeze's brother, an apprentice.

Their chest seizes up. They think of Bilberrypaw or Dustpaw beneath the earth, think of death creeping in through spilled blood and wracking coughs. Their eyes widen, and their tail curls protectively around themself. "He - " Something happened to him, obviously, but what? "D-d-did he get k-k-k... k-killed? Or sick, or -" Trapped in a tunnel, like their siblings might. Their breaths come fast, and they don't think about the harshness of the words. "What happened to him? Is it -" He wavers, lowers his voice. "Is it gonna happen t-t-to... to us?" It's a silly question, he knows. Periwinklebreeze can't know; he just wants the assurance, wants to hear that his dad won't let it happen to them.

I HAD TO LEARN THAT THE HELPING HAND ⛧ CAN BE THE SAME THAT HOLDS THE KNIFE

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  "SPEECH"
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  VULTUREPAW ⛧ he / they / she, apprentice of windclan, eight moons.
  ➳ a spiky-furred dark tabby with amber eyes.
  ➳ skittish and dour, with a superstitious sort of pessimism.
  ➳ micheal x npc, adopted by periwinklebreeze.
  ➳ sibling to dustpaw, bilberrypaw, mourningpaw and weepingpaw.
  ➳ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ➳ penned by SATURNID ↛ saturnids on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

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[Periwinklebreeze.]

LIKE A PICTURE IN A FRAME
WISH WE COULD'VE STAYED THE SAME ​

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periwinklebreeze ❀ 27 moons ❀ demi-boy ❀ windclan lead warrior ​

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" He was- " theres a pause there, bitterness hard to hide as he chokes. " He was. S-sootstar... b-before the new codes, apprentices w-were made at th-three moons old. I was.... delayed, because I g-g-got sick. J-j-just kittencough, but it w-was a warning sign. N-not long ater a sickness c-came to the moors - not y-yellowcough, but something milder. G-greencough. At least... at first. w-we knew how to t-treat it, but w-wisteriapaw was.. stubborn. h-he refused to s-see the medicine cat, and h-he died of b-blackcough wh-when it got worse. It was... the first time w-we used the b-badger sett for our ill" he tells them, the words coming out slow and stammered, but the importance of it spurrs him on. It is a rare thing, for him to speak so much - but, of anyone, he knows his family would judge him the least. They are not like his brother - they think nothing of the strange way he speaks, or at least keep it too themselves.

" I'm g-g-lad the code changed things, " he admits, tail wrapping around whichever apprentice is nearest as he goes to rasp his tongue across their ear. " Foxes, sickness, the other clans - all of it posed far to much d-danger for cat who were h-hardly more then kits, " eyes flick to Vulturepaw and head shakes - " No. " his tone leaves little room for argument. " Starclan c-can be... cruel, but I'd f-fight them to the end b-before letting anything h-happen to you. Any of y-you. "

Head shakes again, and he pushes on, realizing that he's gotten swept up in the details. There are msre names to give, more markers to show, no matter how bittersweet it leaves him feeling. They are naes that deserve to be spoken, cats who should be remembered and not forgotten. Paw turns to touch a pale white stone - closer to the others and the next, a shimmering stone smudged with colorful stains. There are no bodies laid to rest beneath these markers, an absence he still feels even now like a hole through his chest. " This... this is where your grandmothers markers are, " he says softly, tone reverent.

" My m-mother, Hyacinthbreath, she... d-disagreed with sootstar long ago. B-before sunstar came to our clan, b-before... well, everything. Sh-she was exiled for her disagreements when I w-was... very young, " he does not delve into specifics, does not speak of the claws that tore her scar from her chest, or of her defence of their now dead siblings. He doesn't say that he'd kept in touch long after, that he'd broken the code to see her and gotten punished for it.


" She j-joined riverclna, and was... an enemy, f-for a while. In the end, sh-she was exiled fr-from there too - f-for not attacking me when her clanmates wished her too, " it's a story peiced together, bit by bit - from dovepaw and the others words during the journey and Irispath's after. " She... was k-killed by S-sootstar while living as a loner - after Sootstar had already g-g-gone mad "

Eyes turn toward the sky a he breathes, forcing the next words from his lips even though it hurts. " An my other m-mother... moonshadow- she.... we d-don't know what happened to her. She- she simply n-never returned from p-patrol, n-not long after Wisteriapaw died. We n-never found anything but w-we - sh-she wouldn't hve j-j-just up and left us, so Nighting-galecry and I always assumed sh-she joined starclan, " She would not have abandoned them - stars, if she'd really left sootstars rule, surely she would've taken them with her.

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I ' V E - A L W A Y S - B E E N - R E A L - B A D - W I T H - C H A N G E

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[BILBERRYPAW]

The world that Bilberrypaw has been born into has existed long before his arrival. He gets to experience only a sliver of that history—everything else must be dispersed through those who have experienced it themselves or those who know someone who has. Bilberrypaw understands this now, or else he is starting to. It is a dizzying thought. The very same place where Bilberrypaw had laid and healed was where his never-known uncle had settled into death.

Cautious to disturb the strange mood that has settled over their collective shoulders, Bilberrypaw removes his paw from Wisteriapaw’s stone. This is family that Bilberrypaw does not know and will never himself meet, not in this life. It is a burden his heart will hold only through proximity—Bilberrypaw watches Periwinklebreeze with eyes wide enough to drink in his every feature. His pricked ears twitch as if attempting to catch every errant sound.

Bilberrypaw hadn’t known, hadn’t even suspected.

“None of that is fair.” The protest rises from him softly. His life has never known even a portion of the grief that his own father has met—annoyance towards his adoptive siblings or jealousy of Vulturepaw feels insignificant when confronted with a family of bodies.

And yet those had been Bilberrypaw’s worries.

His eyes move for the other stones, speckled around short grasses and pawtread-made paths like errant weeds. This is where WindClan keeps its dead and each of these stones represent a someone that had likely ended before Bilberrypaw had began.

“How do you remember which stones belong to who?” He frowns and returns his attention to those that Periwinklebreeze had introduced him to. They look unique from one another in a way that diminishes their individuality in Bilberrypaw’s mind.
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